My Last Goodbye
by My Daddy is Snape
Summary: During the summer after fifth year, Harry is sent to the Dursleys and is obviously depressed. Trying to protect the lives of his friends and those he considers family, he tries to self-righteously take his own life. By the time the Order catches wind of his attempt, it may be too late. Snape and Hermione try to help him heal. No pairing, no prophecy.


**I do not own Harry Potter or any related themes in this story. It is the property JK Rowling, Warner Bros., etc. I only own the plot and 'this' particular fanfic. **

**If attempted suicide or death triggers you, stay away. **

_My Last Goodbye _

_How can I go on like this?_

_I don't think I can..._

I tried. I tried to hold on until the end. Until I finished this monstrous deed that has been lied before me. To be a murderer, a monster. The truth is, I already am. I know it, I can feel it. It's inside me, tormenting me endlessly. I'm giving in, listening to its' alluring call, and ending it all tonight.

Hermione, please understand. I know the whole world -the wizarding world, at least,- is counting on me to be their _savior_, to rid the world of Lord Voldemort. But- I can't take it anymore. I refuse to hurt more people, and don't you dare say I haven't! Mum and Dad, Sirius, and Cedric are enough. The longer I stay, the list of who will die because of me grows. I'm not stupid, I know someone needs to kill off Voldemort, but it can't be me anymore. Dumbledore can get rid of him, like he did with Grindewald. I may not be happy with him right now, but no one can deny he is a powerful wizard. He can take out the _Dark Lord_, and save our world, just like last time. In this, at least, I have faith in him for.

_Please. _Please take care of Ron and the Weasleys. Explain to them in the gentlest way possible what I have done, and my reasons for doing it. By doing this, I am saving their lives, as well as many more. You're included there too, Mi. All whom I communicate with are at risk, and I cannot handle another death on my hands. Well, except for one.

I really am trying not to be selfish. I have a _saving people thing_, as you put it. I've never had a sister, or any family at all, really. But you, Ron, and Remus are as close as I can come, I suppose. You have to see, you will be set free when I'm gone. Don't mourn for me, live your life. I must do this. I wish it was not the only option I have left, but it is. As Snape said: "It way have escaped your notice, but life _isn't_ fair" For once in my life I agree with him. Big shocker, I know.

Take care,

_**Harry J. Potter**_

Harry bottled his ink and stuffed it and quill into his trunk, shutting and locking it. He laid his letter on the rickety bedside table, next to hid make-shift will. He had left all of his possessions to Ron, Hermione, and Remus- although he had hardly heard from the latter I the past two years. He had been there for Harry when it had mattered, and he wanted to show his thanks. He had signed, dated, ans even left a drop of blood on the parchment just for a god measure, hoping it was legally sound.

His hand ached from all of the writing. In fact, his entire body ached. He had barely eaten since he had come back to the Dursleys, both by choice and circumstance. His Aunt Petunia didn't see it fit to waste food on what his Uncle considered a 'waste of space'.

He had had plenty of time to think the past few weeks,and it served to cement the idea in his head. Yes, he had plenty of time to plan how he was going t take his life. Harry didn't know any spells- besides _Avada Kedavra _-that would kill him quickly enough that, by the time the Ministry learned about his use of magic, he couldn't be saved.

So that left the Muggle way. Oh, Voldemort would find this hilarious. The-Boy-Who-Lived, strongest wizard his age, dying like a dirty, pathetic, _Muggle_. At least he wouldn't be around to hear him gloating. He had found some cleaning chemicals under the sink in the bathroom, during one of his few reprieves from the confines of his room. He thought back to the Muggle Chemistry he had learned in the fifth grade at the elementary school in Little Surrey. One day, there was a presentation from a chemist about safe chemical handling. He had explicitly told them never to touch these two, and to _never_ mix them together. Funny, how it had backfired for the poor bloke. He didn't much care much for this method, but it was effective, and semi-quick. He would just need to be left alone for a few hours and it was not like the Dursleys' would come to 'check on him'.

He had only written to Hermione. He knew Ron wouldn't understand, and Professor Lupin would find a way to save him. Mi was smart enough to realize that it was _his_ choice, and he was doing it for _the greater good- _the only similarity he had to Dumbledore, at least in his mind.

He let Hedwig out of her cage and sat on his bed. This was it. He would owl Hermione as soon as he had drank the poison, and... And take his last breath not long after.

He lifted the cup to his lips and hesitated for a second. No, he wasn't having second thoughts, but rather, needed to say his final words. "To family", he barked out with a sarcastic smirk on his face. If his family hadn't dies that night in Godric's Hallow, or if Sirius was still living, he might not be in this situation. He was also doing this to save the only family he had left, and to protect many more families. So, yes, this was definitely to family. _May your soul rot in hell for eternity, Voldemort, _he thought, and then took deep gulps of the poison was gone.

He ignored the burning in his throat and stood up, giving Hedwig the letter and the will.

"Give this to Hermione Granger, and no one else." he told her firmly. She nodded her head, and with a soft hoot, went to turn towards the window. "I love you Hedwig. Take care, girl." He whispered to her softly. She flew out the window and he didn't see her again. He wouldn't. He laid down once more on his grimy covered and closed his eyes, for what he thought would be the last time.

What he didn't know, however, was that Hermione was in London for the day, on her way to Diagon Alley. Hermione's home was almost a three hour drive to the south of Little Surrey. It would have given him plenty of time to die before anyone would find him. Hedwig, however, knew something was wrong with her master, her wizard. She followed her masters' instructions as quickly as possible, trying to find his friend and convince her to come to his aid.

She landed on the girls' shoulder and sat there impatiently until the witch removed the letter on her leg. Hermione went to put them into her bag to read later so she could go into the book store, but Hedwig jumped off of her shoulder and screeched loudly before she could even move. The Order member that was escorting her quickly moved to her side and watched the bird throw a fit. Hermione immediately tore open the envelope, grabbing the thinner looking stack of parchment and scanned the first few paragraphs quickly. She gasped and took in a strangled breath and handed the letter to her escort to read as well. They had to get Harry help, immediately. He had to still be alive, he just had to. Her arm was grabbed and then she felt like she as sucked into a tube. She had been apparated to the Order headquarters.

There were people running around crazy and she heard arguing coming from all corners of the room. Dumbledore had just appeared and his face was drawn up tight. She didn't notice much else until a group of wizards disapparated from the room and suddenly everyone else left, having other tasks to complete. She wondered why she was so cold until she realized she was sitting in the corner of the floor, silent tears streaming down her face. Once she realized she was actually alone, her sobs could be heard from all corners of the house.

Harry opened up his eyes at the unexplained_ bang _that resonated through the room. Through blurry eyes, he saw a dark figure stalk into his room and come towards his bed at a fast pace. He could finally tell who this visitor was, unwelcome as he was. Professor Snape was in his room, standing over Harry like so many times before. A quick glance towards his clock showed that two hours had passed since he drank the deadly concoction. Just enough time that it couldn't be reversed, at least to his knowledge. Through hazy thoughts, he wondered how they had found out, whoever _they _were, what he had done. The more he tried to think, the harder it was to think. He was starting to loose control of his scenes... It was working! A silly smile worked its' way onto his face as he happily succumbed to sleep, a sleep he would never wake from.


End file.
